


The Waves Are Crashing Down (On You and Me)

by why_didnt_i_get_any_soup



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Dimension Travel, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It, Implied Relationships, Minor Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Kate Bishop/America Chavez, Sexual Content, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 17:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19950208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/why_didnt_i_get_any_soup/pseuds/why_didnt_i_get_any_soup
Summary: Natasha jumps off the cliff on Vormir. So why is she waking up on the couch of a strange apartment in Bed-Stuy?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlphaFlyer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaFlyer/gifts).



> This is AU is set in the Fraction/Aja Hawkeye universe, with a few changes. In this fic, Clint is not dating Jessica Drew and Barney doesn’t show up.

Natasha wakes up in a strange apartment on a strange couch. She doesn’t know how she got there, but she remembers looking for the soul stone with Clint, getting to it before Thanos did. And then...she wound up here.  _ What the hell? _

She wasn’t awake more than two seconds before there was a blonde fuzzy dog with one eye in her face. Natasha liked dogs, but she very rarely was around them. Its tail was wagging and it was trying to lick her face. She certainly knew enough to realize that the dog was acting like he knew her.

“Hi, pup, who are you?” She asked it, sitting up to scratch its ears.

She reached for a collar but there wasn’t one. The door behind her opened up.

“Natasha? Didn’t I just see you?”

It was definitely Clint’s voice, but it was softer, different. It wasn’t the voice of someone who’d seen his family die, or killed so many in his grief.

“So, the multiverse is real, huh?” Natasha said to herself.

“Huh?” he said, and she turned to look over the back of the couch.

There he was, standing in all his glory. No tattoos, blonde hair sticking up every which way, and bandaids dotting his face and arms.

“You will probably want to sit down for this,” Natasha told him then.

He came around, peering at her curiously. He was so handsome. It was strange to see him so incredibly fresh-faced and bright.

…

Natasha watched as Clint tried to casually get up from his seat to steadily inch toward the kitchen and a sharp knife. The dog stayed sitting by Natasha. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes at that. If she had been a threat to him, he wouldn’t have even seen what was coming. But it was Clint and he had caught her somewhat off guard. Still, she let him cling to that sense of safety.

“How do I know if I can trust you?” he asked, his voice shaking a little.

Natasha slowly turned her head towards him, trying not to spook him.

“If I were going to attack you, I’d have done it already. But you can keep holding the knife if it makes you feel better.”

“That does sound like something Nat would say…” he trailed off, then reached for the wall-mounted phone in the kitchen, quickly dialing and holding it up to his ear. The volume was up incredibly loud, so Natasha could hear the entire conversation.

“Kate?” he said.

“Yeah?” came a girl’s voice from the other end, sounding just a little put out.

“Can you bring your girlfriend over here? There’s a...situation.”

“On it, Chief.”

“So…” Natasha spoke up, “Now we wait?”

“Now we wait,” Clint confirmed.

Natasha reached out and scratched the dog behind the ears. “What’s his name?” she asked as the dog tried to lick her mouth but she ducked away from him.

“Lucky,” he supplied, “but his name was Arrow when I got him. I changed it to Lucky ‘cause these mob guys owned him and he attacked them on my behalf and then they beat him near to death and tossed him into traffic. I rushed him to the hospital and here he is now.”

“Wow, a trooper!” Natasha was impressed and scratched his eyes with a little more fervor. “What a good boy!” Lucky closed his one eye in happiness.

“This is so weird to be explaining to you. My Natasha knows this already.” He peered at her for a second then. “Anyway, the surgeries were rough on him and obviously he lost his eye. Him and me are similar in that way.” He gestured to his ear.

“Oh. That’s why you had the phone volume up so loud?”

He nodded. “Hard of hearing.”

“My Clint…” she trailed off, thinking of him, thinking of his family, missing the whole lot of them, “he didn’t have that.”

“Oh,” Clint said and Natasha felt that was a reasonable response. She wished she hadn’t brought it up, remembering the look on Clint’s face right before she convinced him to let her go. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

“What...what just happened there?” Clint asked, his face twisting into concern. Clearly, the fact that she looked like his Natasha was enough for him to let his guard down a little.

“Just...thinking about my Clint, I guess,” she admitted, her guard down too.

“Tell me about him?” he said, coming a bit closer, the knife still clutched in his hand.

She chuckled sardonically but nodded. “He has a family. A wife and three kids.”

Clint’s eyes went wide then. “What are their names?”

“Laura is his wife, his oldest is a girl named Lila, the middle kid is Cooper, and the baby is Nathaniel. He was supposed to be named after me, but then he was a boy. I told him he was traitor.”

“So, you were close with his family?”

Natasha thought about Laura, about the kids, about all the love, and nodded. “Very.”

“I’m...sorry,” he sounded conflicted. “I don’t know anyone named Laura.” It almost sounded like a non-sequitur but Natasha followed. He wasn’t going to have a family like that.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” she said, in lieu of an apology.

“I was married once,” he admitted.

“To who?”

“Bobbi Morse. You know her?”

Natasha laughed. “Yes, I do. She’s a good person. I see how it didn’t work out.” She smirked at him.

“Hey now!”

“I kid, I kid,” she put her hands up.

“She’s with this new guy now, Lance Hunter. He seems like a good guy, good for her.”

Natasha nodded and was about to answer when the front door of the apartment swung open. Lucky ran over to it. A fashionable girl dressed in purples, around 18 years old, stood there with another girl about the same age with curly hair, a jean jacket, and booty shorts.

“Hey Clint, we’re here!” she called, spotting Natasha first. “Hey, Nat.” Then her eyes swung to Clint. “Why are you holding a knife, Clint?” Her eyes flashed back to Natasha then and she immediately assumed a defensive stance.

“Kate, wait!” The other girl called, her hands and eyes glowing a bluish white, “she’s okay. That’s Nat. Just...not our Nat.”

The girl named Kate stood down, turning back to the other girl whose appearance was fading back to usual. “What can you see, America?”

“She’s from Earth, just a different Earth,” the girl named America said.

Clint audibly sighed and let the knife clatter onto the counter.

“Really, Clint, if she was a threat, I don’t think the knife would have done much,” Kate said. “Plus, she let you call us. So...I don’t know what you thought.”

Clint gave Kate a glare, but she ignored him. “So, you can see where she’s from?” she addressed America.

“Yeah, it’s...dark. Much different from Earth 616. I...um…” She looked over at Natasha. “You’re…”

“Dead, yeah.” Natasha licked her lips and nodded.

“I’m not entirely sure I can take you back there…”

“That’s something that’s even possible?” Natasha stood up then, moving toward America.

“Well...usually. But I’ve never dealt with this situation.”

“Me neither.” Natasha laughed. “Never been dead before.”

The room was incredibly quiet after that comment.

“So…” Clint spoke up, “what do we do now?”

“I think I’m going to have to talk with Madrimar. She might know more about this than I do.”

“Who’s Madrimar?” Clint asked.

“Her grandmother,” Kate answered for America.

“Oh,” Clint said, nodding like that explained everything.

“My mother, Amalia’s mom,” America clarified.

“I would be grateful to you for consulting with your grandmother on my behalf, America,” Natasha smiled, the prospect of her maybe getting to go home brightening her mood.

“It’ll probably take me a few days. In the meantime, try not to be seen by the other Natasha. It’ll  _ probably _ be okay if you are, but you never know.”

“Right,” Natasha agreed, imagining talking to herself from another universe.

What that must be like...what she might know. What do they have in common? Where do they differ? A part of her really wanted to meet her alternate self, just to know. But she had self- control. She could refrain.

“Well, I’m going to go now,” America said, pulling Kate into a kiss before her eyes and hands began to glow again and a glowing star appeared on the floor.

Natasha schooled her face into nonchalance as America punched down into the star, shattering it and revealing just a glimpse of a completely different landscape with trees and grass, as opposed to the apartment below that Natasha was expecting to see.

“See you guys around,” America said, giving a salute before jumping down into the portal.

“Well, that was interesting,” Natasha commented when the portal disappeared.

“She’s from a different dimension that her moms died to protect. It’s complicated,” Kate waved a hand to dismiss the topic.

“Right,” Natasha nodded.

“At any rate, there go my plans for the night, I guess. Anything I can do while I’m here?”

“I’m so exhausted, Kate,” Clint whined, sounding very uncharacteristic from the Clint she knew. Her Clint was composed and never expressed any kind of vulnerability.

“So tired you can’t even make up the bed for a guest?”

“My room is so gross it’s probably better if she stays on the couch,” he said, making an apologetic face at Natasha. That was nothing like her Clint. “Can you help her with sheets and stuff in the hall closet while I go check on Simone and the kids?” he finished up, heading toward the door without even waiting for a reply.

Natasha made meaningful eye contact with Kate as soon as the door closed behind Clint. “Simone and the kids?”

“Simone is a neighbor, a couple stories up. Clint has sort of taken over control a little bit of this apartment, after wresting it from some Slavic dudes who love to wear tracksuits and say ‘bro’ way too much. So, he’s sort of mother-henning some of the building tenants. Clint’s...soft on kids.” Kate explained.

“It’s so weird to explain this to you, even though it’s not even really you. What’s with that outfit anyway?”

For the first time during this whole situation, Natasha remembered the sci-fi red and white outfit she had been given for the time heist, remembered the Pym particle she was supposed to use to return to her right time. She looked at it, the red liquid on her hip. If America couldn’t return her to her proper timeline with her powers, would that time travel liquid do any good either? It was something to think about.

Natasha laughed, helping Kate pull some mismatched sheets down from a closet in the hall. “I was involved in a ‘time heist’ when I died. This stuff was all meant to help us with the time travel and everything.”

“Us? Was it the Avengers?”

“Yes, something far, far in the future that I hope never reaches you guys here. I don’t even really want to talk about it.”

“Tell me you weren’t the one to give it the name ‘time heist.’”

“Ha. No, that was Scott Lang.”

“Oh! Cassie’s dad.”

Natasha smiled at that. “You know Cassie?”

“Yeah, she’s my age.”

Natasha balked a little at that, having only known Cassie as a kid of about 11. In this universe, she was practically an adult. “Cassie’s just a kid in my universe.”

“That’s...so weird. Our timelines...are not very well synched up, are they?”

“No, I suppose not,” Natasha thought about it some more. “He has a family in mine.”

“What?” Kate’s eyes went wide. “Clint? That human dumpster fire? Can’t get his life together, always trying to help but getting sucked into dumb shit? That Clint? He has a family?”

“A wife, three kids, and a farm in Missouri,” Natasha expounded.

“Mind...blown,” Kate said, truly looking dazed. “I mean, I met him as Ronin. He is perfectly capable when he wants to be. But...I just can’t see it.”

“Cognitive dissonance,” Natasha agreed.

“Well, I was going to spend the night with my girlfriend, but superheroing is never really done, is it?”

“No,” Natasha agreed.

“I guess I’ll just use the opportunity to get some rest?”

“I hope that you do,” Natasha said, walking with Kate toward the front door.

“If you need me, I’m sure Clint will let you borrow his phone. It must be so weird not to have one.”

“Ha, funny, I didn’t even really think about that until just now. I’ve made due before. I’m sure I’ll make due again now.”

So, if she was going to be spending any real length of time in this universe, she would need to get a burner phone. Mark that down as task number one for the morning. She settled onto the couch, laying on her back and staring up at the water-stained ceiling.

When Clint came back, he seemed more tired but happier. He had a smile on his face but he was lethargic walking back in.

“Thanks for letting me stay here,” Natasha said when he got closer.

“Not like I had much choice,” he muttered.

“You don’t have to be an ass, you know? You could have just said ‘no problem’ and gone on with the rest of your night,” she snapped at him, forgetting he was a total stranger.

He turned back around to her with wide eyes.

“You’re right. I’m so sorry. I think it’s just...you look like her and I just kind of...forgot you weren’t.”

“This is...going to take some getting used to,” she admitted, sitting up. She was still in her time heist suit. “Before you go to bed, do you have anything—anything at all—that I could sleep in that’s not...this?” she gestured to herself.

“Oh, I, uh, yeah.” His face morphed into an awkward embarrassment then and he disappeared upstairs for a minute.

When he emerged again, he had a stack of clothes. “Some of these were Nat’s, some were Bobbi’s, some were Jess’. Take your pick. I’ve got to hit the hay.”

Natasha nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, clearly remembering himself now. “Good night.” And then he disappeared back up the stairs.

…

Natasha woke up immediately when she heard a noise in the apartment. Clint was shuffling down the stairs, clearly trying to keep quiet. It wasn’t working.

“Aw, pants,” he said, fiddling with the drawstring of his baggy sweatpants, “I was trying to make you some coffee before you woke up.”

Natasha sat up. “I’m a spy, remember? Any little noise will wake me up.”

“Right, right,” he scratched his head. “At any rate, I’ll still put the coffee on. I need it.”

“Sounds good,” she nodded. “So, that girl, Kate, what’s she to you?”

“Oh, she’s my, uh…” he looked sheepish and Natasha found it kind of cute.

“Sidekick?”

“No!” he responded vehemently, swinging the coffee pot full of water around with his body as he turned toward her. He got water everywhere. “No, uh, she’s my...protégé? She took over for me when I, uh, was somebody else...”

_ Ronin _ , Natasha gathered.

“Oh, so she does the,” here, Natasha pantomimed drawing back a bow, “thing too?”

Clint nodded, grumbling as he poured the water into the coffee pot and then rung out some of the water that had spilled on his shirt. “Such a  _ klutz! _ ” she heard him mutter. She couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Happens to the best of us.” she offered, hoping it was helpful.

He shot her a look but didn’t say anything, just finished with the coffee and set it brewing.

Natasha got up from the couch, hyper aware of the fact that she was braless around Clint, something she never usually cared about. She joined him in the kitchen and looked out the window. It was a lovely view of the building across the street.

“What part of the city are we in right now?”

“Bed-Stuy,” Clint said, looking out the window with her.

“A good ways from Avengers Tower, huh?”

“That’s the point,” he said, reaching into the cupboard for two coffee mugs. It looked like that was all he had in there. “Trying not to be recognized. It happens occasionally, but this neighborhood has been pretty good to me so far. Minus the track suit dudes.”

“Oh yeah, about that. Kate mentioned it last night. What’s up with that?”

“Well, uh, the guy who owned the building, Ivan—I bought him out of the building because he was jacking up the prices on all the tenants because he had someone who wanted to buy the whole building. I helped one of his dude’s ex wives escape them and then rob them. It was a strip joint in Little Irkutsk. Got in trouble for sleeping around on Jessica,”

“Drew?” Natasha cut in.

“Yeah,” Clint admitted, but didn’t miss a beat, “They killed this guy who lived here, Gil. A good dude. So, I think whoever his buyer is, is pretty hot shit, so it’s probably something that’s gonna come back to bite me in the ass, even though I know it was the right thing to do.”

Natasha reached for one of the coffee mugs, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, pursing her lips and nodding. “It was the right thing to do. Not sure I would have done it, but I’m glad you did.”

“Well, now, I think they’re trying to kill me, so I’m not sure I’m glad I did.”

Finally, the coffee pot buzzed and stopped percolating, signaling the coffee was ready. Natasha grabbed for it and filled her cup. Then, she went to the fridge to look for some creamer. The fridge was tragically sparse—a few takeout containers, some condiments, and some eggs. She wanted to ask him how he lived like that, but instead just blew on her coffee to cool it down.

“I was thinking of going to get a tracfone if I’m going to be here a while,” she said, changing the subject.

“Mmm I’m not sure it’s a great idea to leave the apartment,” he said, fixing himself a cup of coffee too.

“Why’s that?”

“Buncha guys in tracksuits with bats hanging out, out front,” he admitted, taking a sip too soon and clearly burning the roof of his mouth.

“They really don’t like you, huh?” Natasha asked, smirking.

“No, they don’t.”

“So, what are we going to do about it?”

“I’m...not really sure,” he admitted, scratching his head. “I was just going to... _ not _ leave the apartment.”

“Well, that’s clearly not an option. I’m going to put on some clothes and then we’re gonna kick some ass.”

“ _ Nat _ ,” he stopped short, looking at her with wide eyes, “Natasha,” he corrected himself.

Oh, this is about him thinking I’m a stranger, Natasha realized.

“First thing we gotta do is figure out what we’re dealing with. I’m gonna...call Bobbi.”

“Your ex-wife?” Natasha clarified.

“I think she can help. Jess is sore at me, for good reason, and it would be weird to get Natasha, well other Natasha, involved considering,” and he gestured over to her.

“All right,” Natasha took a sip of her cooling coffee, “Call Bobbi.”

“You’ll act normal when you see her?”

“I’ll do my best, Cap,” she said, doing a little salute.

He rolled his eyes but went over to the wall phone. Natasha listened as Bobbi agreed to come over.

…

“Did you see the dudes outside?” Clint asked Bobbi when she knocked on his door.

“They’re sitting in a van, looks like they’re just...watching?” she explained, going to set her computer down on the coffee table where Clint had a mess of newspaper clippings spread.

“That’s weird, but I guess it’s better than the last time you came over here…” Clint trailed off meaningfully.

“Valentine’s day,” Bobbi supplied.

“That one,” he agreed.

“You have to admit, there’s a certain kind of humor in officially signing your divorce papers on Valentine’s day.”

Natasha couldn’t help but snort at that. Bobbi’s head snapped up, seeing her standing at the foot of the stairs.

“Oh! Natasha! I didn’t see you. What are you doing here?”

Natasha looked to Clint, who thankfully answered for her. “I called her over, too, to help with this whole situation,” he explained.

“Right,” Bobbi said, pulling out a laptop, “You have wifi here?”

“Uh,” Clint scratched the back of his head, “no?”

“Didn’t figure you did,” Bobbi said, waving him off and pulling out her phone to use as a hotspot. “Get me a cup of coffee, will you?”

Clint rushed off to get the coffee while Natasha came closer to Bobbi, hoping that Bobbi wouldn’t be able to tell she was a different person. Bobbi said nothing. When Clint returned, he leant over Bobbi to hand her the cup of steaming liquid and stayed close to look at the computer screen. It was the first time Natasha had been so close to Clint and she could smell him. It was nice. She tried not to breathe him in too deeply, lest she tip everyone off.

“So what else do we know about these guys?”

“They’re Russian? Or Slavic? Maybe Polish. The accents are all over the map,” Clint said, sounded much more with it than Natasha had heard since she arrived.

“So, I was able to pull the records of that strip club you busted…”

“Wait, how did you know—?”

Bobbi cut him off. “Clint…” she said wryly over the coffee mug rim.

“Right, right. If it helps, I wasn’t there for the girls. I was there for the guys. Wait…” He looked like he was about to clarify more but Bobbi cut him off again.

Well, the strip joint is owned by a shell company. A fake company meant to dodge taxes.”

“Right.”

“Which was part of another shell corporation and another and another. But, I finally reached the alpha. The guy’s name is Ivan Banionis.”

“Well, let’s go get him,” Clint said, straightening and looking like he was about to grab his bow.

“Clint,” Bobbi called him back, “You got him deported. He and his company owned this building. And they own buildings all over the place, well, all over this block. Now, this is the only building for three blocks in every direction they  _ don’t  _ own. Do you know what that means?”

“They’ve got big plans,” Natasha cut in. “That would have taken so much time, money, and willpower to get all this stuff.”

“Bingo,” Bobbi said. “Clint is a huge pain in the ass to them, now. That’s why they hate him so much. They stood to make a  _ lot  _ of money.”

“Fuck,” Clint sighed out.

“Yeah, fuck.” Bobbi agreed. “What did you find out, Nat?” She turned to Natasha.

“I...don’t have anything yet,” Natasha tried, hoping it was the right response.

“Last time we talked, you said you had something to give Clint.”

“Oh, I, uh, I have my people on it. Haven’t gotten the dossier back quite yet.”

“Ah, okay. Hopefully it comes through soon. We need to get this sorted. They may be a criminal enterprise, but there’s nothing that I can find that directly indicates that any of their purchases were criminal.”

“Okay,” Clint said, “Thanks, Bobbi.”

“Don’t mention it.”

…

“So, this Nat has some information for you,” Natasha said when Bobbi had left.

“Seems that way. I guess I’m gonna have to call her.”

“You go do that. I’ll just chill out here, for now.”

“Right. That sounds the safest.” He nodded and moved over to the phone. He dialed a number and listened while it rang. “Nat? I hear you’ve got some information for me.”

“Meet at the diner in an hour,” Natasha heard her counterpart say and abruptly hang up.

“You gonna be okay here by yourself?” He turned to her.

“You’ve at least got cable, right?”

“Uh,” he looked toward the living room, “I do...but I don’t exactly know how it works. You’re more than welcome to take a crack at it.”

“Wow, Barton. You’re a disaster,” she said, laughing.

“I know,” he flashed a winning smile at her and went to grab a jacket before leaving.

“If my phone rings, you can answer it. If it’s not me, just hang up.” He instructed and then handed his key to her. “Be here when I get back?”

Natasha nodded. Then, he closed the door behind him. She locked it.

“Incredible,” Natasha muttered, moving over to the pile of clothes Clint had brought out to her last night, looking for a jacket.

She did a sweep around the room one last time and then descended to the street.

…

The wall phone rang after Natasha had been back almost an hour. She said nothing.

“Hey, it’s me,” Clint said.

“Hey,” she responded. “What did you find out?”

“Natasha seems to think they might be sending a pretty big bad after me.”

“Like who?”

“Well, she was able to find eighteen separate killings in the tri-state area. Sometimes the weapon changes but the shot pattern is the same. But the calling card is this little bullseye looking thing spray painted somewhere nearby. All the victims had been in the way of the track suit guys. Whoever he is, he’s fucking good. He’s unafraid. There’s no name. He’s a blank space.”

“Well, fuck,” Natasha said.

“Yeah. So, look alive? He could show up anywhere, any time.”

“Roger that,” Natasha said and then they hung up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all smut. If you don’t wish to read smut, you can skip it and you won’t have missed anything plot wise.

She went back to sit on the couch but was feeling tense, hypervigilant. She was holding her the remote tight in her hand when there was a knock at the front door. On practiced, silent tiptoes, she snuck toward it until she heard Clint’s voice call out “it’s me!” from the other side. She sighed in relief and opened it for him.

He looked haggard, but not any worse than he had before he left. Not bad for finding out there is most definitely a skilled assassin bent on hunting you down. She was almost impressed, even as she scanned his scruffy face for scabs. He was still hot as all hell but he was a wreck. It really made Natasha want to just rake her fingers through his messy blonde mop of hair. But this wasn’t her Clint; she wasn’t allowed.

He flopped on the couch next to where she had re-seated herself. He was honestly closer than she expected him to be and she could smell him, feel the warmth radiating from his flat chest when he draped an arm on the back of the couch behind her, casual as you please.

“Whatcha watchin’?” He asked instead of bringing up anything serious.

_ Sure _ , Natasha thought to herself,  _ I guess this is what we’re doing _ . But she was so distracted by his proximity she could hardly speak words.

“Just...the Discovery Channel or something. They were doing surgery on a silverback gorilla,” she explained, waving him off.

“Oh, sexy, sexy,” he said, no real emotion in his tone.

_ Why would he say that? _

“That what gets you going, big boy?” She teased, as if she knew him.

But then she saw the frozen look on his face. That was the absolute  _ wrong _ thing to say.  _ Shit, shit, shit _ . She was suddenly afraid he was going to kick her out and America would never find her, roaming the streets of New York, and she would be stuck in this parallel universe where there already was one of her. She shuddered at the thought.

That’s when she looked back at Clint. He was hovering, in her space, and she knew what that meant. She could interpret the focal point of his eyes, understand that he was staring at her mouth, notice that his breathing had gone fast and shallow. He wanted to kiss her. Maybe  _ he _ had forgotten that they were strangers. Because he was leaning in, staring, and Natasha knew she was staring right back. He was  _ her _ him, just a little to the left. She knew this was a bad idea, but, oh, the temptation was sweet.

She closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss. It was just like kissing her Clint. He tasted the same, felt the same, only he was a bit rougher. And so were his cheeks. Her Clint was pretty much always clean shaven. But, she had to admit, a little bit of beard did it for her. She kept rubbing at it with her palms, then moving her hands to palm over the short hair at the back of his head. Even in his strangeness, she loved his masculinity, reveled in it in a way she had not for...oh, five years or so. God, she had missed him.

Without speaking a word, he pushed back against her, shifting so that he was laying on top of her and she was scrabbling at his shoulders. He was panting between kisses and grinding down into her. She could feel his hardening length against her. She bucked up against him, coaxing him on, and her pussy was pounding in anticipation. It was enough to encourage him to kiss down her neck and palm her breasts over her shirt.

“Can-can we move this upstairs?”

“I thought your room was gross,” Natasha teased, grabbing at his hips and relishing the bone and muscle she found there.

“I mostly just said that because I wanted to sleep in my own bed,” he admitted, panting against her neck.

“Asshole,” she smirked, gripping him tighter. “We can go, but you’re gonna have to carry me.”

He pulled back then. “Up the stairs?”

She cocked an eyebrow in challenge. “You can’t manage it?”

“Oh, I can manage,” he retorted, standing up from the couch.

Then, he grabbed Natasha and flung her over his shoulder. She grabbed his ass as he climbed up the metal stairs to his bedroom above. It really wasn’t as gross as he let on. It was just a man’s room—the sheets and blankets (so many blankets) on the bed were rumpled and unmade but they weren’t crusty or gross, just a little old and worn. He had clothes on the floor, but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before, and his bows and arrows near the closet. All in all, pretty utilitarian.

He flopped her down on the bed and stood there looking down at her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she wondered if he was seeing someone else (or another version of her, at any rate). She didn’t care, though. She was wet for him, maybe thinking about another version of him too. Impatient, she started taking her pants off.

“Wait, no,” he said, grabbing at her wrists.

“Clint, you’re being a cocktease. Come on,” she complained, her voice a whine.

“Sorry, just give me a second. I want to take my hearing aids out. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Grab a condom while you’re over there. I am gonna take my pants off though.”

“I wanted to take your pants off,” he pouted.

“Okay, fine. I’ll wait,” she huffed, laying back and watching as Clint pulled the little devices out of his ears and placed them in their charging cradle. Then, he opened the top drawer of his dresser. Instead of just one condom, he brought over the whole box.

“A bit presumptuous, eh, Barton?”

He didn’t respond. “Wait, did you say something?”

_ Right, the hearing aids _ , she reminded herself. Instead of talking more, she beckoned him over with the crook of her finger. He made haste over to the bed and place the box on the bedside table.

“I said,” she repeated, when he was in her space, hovering over to her to kiss her again, “‘a bit presumptuous, eh, Barton?’”

He leant back and shrugged but the smile on his face was dopey. “One can never be too careful,” he said and then did kiss her then.

Then, his hands moved down to her pants, pulling down the zipper and loosing the button. From there, it was easy from him to hook his fingers into the waistband of the pants and underwear and slide them down and off from there. This left Natasha exposed. She relished it.

“Take your shirt off,” she told him and watched as he did so. It was just easier that way. “But I’m taking your pants off.”

He stepped closer and she sat up, reaching for his sweatpants. It was incredibly easy for her to do the same as he had, hooking fingers into his boxers and pulling everything off. And there was his cock, gone a little flaccid from where they were playing around on the couch, but Natasha wasn’t deterred. She could fix that quickly, after she took her shirt off. She figured Clint might want to take that off himself. So, while she reached forward and began stroking him to full hardness, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra, pulling it away from her shoulders and breasts.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he told her, looking down as she was stroking him and her nipples were exposed. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Well, I’d say we’re pretty well ready, so get in here, tiger.”

“Holy fuck,” he muttered and reached over to the box to pull out one of the foil packets.

She watched as he ripped it open and tried to figure out which way it went before rolling it down onto his dick. We he’d gotten it secure and stroked it a few times himself, she laid back and open her legs in anticipation. Before he tried to enter her, he reached a hand down to feel how wet she was.

“Oh god, you’re so wet for me. Do you need any lube at all?”

How considerate, she thought, surprised.

“We’re good to go, chief,” she smirked.

He took that as the go ahead that it was and wasted no time pushing in. It felt so good, the perfect amount of stretch. The position was perfect for him to remain standing and thrust easily with his hips with her laying there, legs moving to wrap around his hips. From there, it was a frenzy of nipple licking and thrusting, laughing, groping, and switching positions. By the end of this first round, Natasha had Clint on his back, licking his nipples and riding him fast and hard. Clint came up inside her, immediately flipping her back onto her back so he could go down on her and finish her off. She hadn’t orgasmed like that in...well, five years.

They laid together, boneless, shaking a bit, and regaining their breath. Then, they began to kiss again. When Natasha felt Clint’s erection against her, she smirked.

“Ready for round 2?” she asked teasingly.

It turned out to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the fic!

Natasha woke up when Clint tried to get out of the bed.

“Where are you going?” she croaked. He was still close enough that he could hear her.

“Bathroom,” he answered and slunk out.

She rolled over to look for a clock. 5:40 am. _Jesus_. She would love more sleep but she was the kind of person that once she was up, she was up. So, she threw the covers off and found her shirt from the previous day. It didn’t really cover much but she felt a little more comfortable not being completely naked. With that, she made her way downstairs to the pile of clothes Clint had left there for her and changed into something new. Since she wasn’t going back to sleep, she figured she would put on a pot of coffee. She was a bit surprised to see Clint climb down the stairs a few minutes later, his hearing aids in despite having changed into his pajamas.

“I really don’t want to be awake right now,” he said, slurring, “but I can’t resist the siren song that is coffee.”

“You really are something, Clint,” Natasha shook her head. 

“About last night,” he started, not making eye contact.

“You don’t have to explain. I know I’m just here for a short time. But it does make me think that maybe there is a version of me you might need to have a talk with.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m not saying projecting, but I’m not _not_ saying that either,” she smirked.

“Jesus, Nat, it’s too early in the morning for this kind of talk.”

“Hey, there, bucko. You brought it up, not me.”

“All right, point taken,” he smiled shyly and moved over toward the cupboard to pull down a mug.

“What are we going to do in the meantime while we wait for America to come back?”

“She’s an interdimensional being. Theoretically, she could come back at any time,” Clint explained.

“Makes sense. So, we just sit here and wait to see if a world class assassin comes to try to kill you?”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t be here?”

“I’m saying it makes you a really easy target,” she shrugged. The coffee had finished brewing so she poured it into Clint’s mug before getting one for herself.

“I’ve been a sitting duck for a while now,” he admitted, adding some sugar to his cup.

Natasha shrugged again, taking the spoon from him and dumping sugar into her own cup. “Maybe you should call that protégé of yours.”

“And tell her what?”

Natasha gave him a withering look. “Obviously, you trust her. You don’t have to sit on this by yourself. You have to really trust people close to you.”

Something passed over Clint’s face that Natasha couldn’t decipher but it seemed like whatever it was closed him off. He walked away.

Natasha sighed. She watched as he walked up the stairs.

“I gotta call Kate,” she said to herself.

It had been literal decades since Natasha had used a wall phone and she didn’t quite remember how it worked. After a few minutes of fiddling with it, she finally figured out the speed dial settings. She pressed speed dial 1 and hoped that it was Kate’s number. It rang a few times and then Kate’s voice was on the other side of the line.

“Clint,” she said, “It’s five AM. This better be important.”

“Actually, it’s Natasha. Um...the _other_ Natasha.”

“Oh! Hello,” she said, clearly sounding awkward.

“Have you heard anything from America?”

“ _Heh_ , yeah, uh,” she was cut off by a voice behind her asking who it was. She covered the receiver with her hand and told the other person, presumably America, that it was the _other_ Natasha. Then, she came back on the line. “She got back last night. Late. She’s an interdimensional being. She can basically show up whenever and wherever she wants.”

“Clint said the same thing,” Natasha observed.

“Well, anyway, she wanted to give you two some time. And give us some time since we had planned a date before we got dragged into interdimensional weirdness.”

“That’s fair,” Natasha nodded, to no one in particular. “So, did she find anything out?”

She covered the receiver again and asked America the same question. “Yeah, she said she’s got good news but can she get a few more hours of sleep?” She said, when she came back on the line.

Natasha laughed. “Sure. I’ll just be here.”

“Great. We’ll bring some breakfast when we come.”

“Thanks, Kate. You’re a good kid.”

“Aw shucks,” Kate said sarcastically.

“I’ll be on the lookout for my universe’s you, when I get back there.”

“Mkay. I’m tired as hell. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Natasha was smiling as she hung up. It sounded very likely that she was going to be able to go home.

…

Natasha climbed the stairs to Clint’s bedroom. She thought she might find the door closed and locked but it was actually slightly ajar. He couldn’t be too mad, then. She slowly pushed it open and found Clint face first back on the bed. He’d put on some pajamas at least.

“Clint?” She said softly.

“Hng,” was his graceful reply, muffled by the pillow.

“I just talked to Kate. I think I get to go home,” she told him, trying to contain her excitement.

He peered at her over his shoulder, cracking one eye open. “Good!” he tried to sound chipper but it fell a little short.

“You get some sleep. They’re coming over in a few hours. I’ll watch some TV in the meantime.”

“Mkay,” he said, face back into the pillow.

…

It was close to eleven by the time Kate and America finally showed up at the apartment. They had muffins and fresh coffee and faces that said they really would have liked to sleep for a few more hours. Natasha didn’t want to pry but she figured that the girls probably had been doing couple things until late in the evening, from what she gathered through her earlier phone conversation with them. She understood.

“I’ll go wake up Clint,” Kate said, when Natasha opened the door.

America handed over the paper bag with the muffins. “Thanks,” Natasha said, with a smile, trying not to ask about going home until America was ready to talk about it.

“Sure,” America said, walking toward the living room to plop down on the couch. “Can you hand me a blueberry muffin?”

Natasha sat down next to her and dug in the bag for the specific muffin before handing it over. Then, she grabbed a cranberry orange one for herself. It was quite good and she was halfway finished by the time Clint and Kate made it back down the stairs.

“I’m only here because there’s coffee,” Clint said, like it was necessary to say.

“Clint,” Kate scolded, “don’t be an asshole.”

He grunted and grabbed for the paper cup. “Well, what are we waiting for?” He looked over to America, who had muffin in her mouth.

She swallowed and then turned to Natasha. “So, after talking to Madrimar and looking at the time stream you came from, we think we can integrate you back into the continuum without causing any problems, since you did okay here and it doesn’t seem like the fabric of reality was being pulled apart by your mere presence.”

Natasha felt her stomach drop at that. Was that something that was even possible? She didn’t have time to ask. America was still talking.

“It’ll be basically right after you were supposed to die. We’ll just reintegrate you back into the fray and they won’t even hardly know you were gone. Your body will still be where it was left, but you shouldn’t have any issues existing there since it’s your original timeline.”

Natasha nodded. It sounded simple enough, so why was she so nervous?

“I suppose I better change back into what I arrived in,” she said, laughing to cover up her nerves.

America nodded. “That’s for the best.”

She found her white suit in the pile with the other clothes and took it to change into. The Pym particle was still there, in its vial.

“To be clear,” Natasha asked, as she rounded the corner back into the living room after changing, “will I be going back to Vormir? Or will I be going back to Earth?”

“Earth, Avengers compound,” America clarified.

“Then I won’t be needing this,” she pulled the particle vial from her belt and handed it to America. “You seem responsible, so you should hold on to it for safekeeping. You know what it is, right?”

“A Pym particle, yeah,” America nodded and took it from Natasha. Then, she stood up. “Ready?”

Natasha nodded, and America’s hands and eyes began to glow that white-blue color. There was a similarly glowing star portal on the ground.

“Hey, Clint,” Natasha called to him.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll talk to your Natasha.”

“Only if you promise you’ll talk to your Clint.”

“Oh, I will. And my Laura too.” She said, smirking. Then, she stuck out her hand to shake.

Clint hesitated a second but then took her hand. “Good luck,” he said. He could have been meaning any number of things.

“Thanks,” she said anyway. Then, she looked to America who nodded and punched open the portal.

“Safe travels,” Kate said.

Natasha smiled at her, then America, took a deep breath, and walked into the star.


End file.
